


Not the French Mistake

by Annie46fic



Category: Supernatural, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Crack, Angst, M/M, bodyswap - Jared Padalecki/Sam Winchester, supernatural/RPS crossover
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-11
Updated: 2013-07-11
Packaged: 2017-12-19 05:15:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,630
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/879863
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Annie46fic/pseuds/Annie46fic
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jared is looking over the new scripts, trying to figure out his character's motivations. He tells Jensen he wants to get into Sam’s mind, try to figure out why he did what he did.  Little does he know, Jensen is not the only one listening.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not the French Mistake

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. Written for Enchantment Gone Wrong – a J2 Crack Comment Meme on LJ – from a prompt by citrusjava
> 
> 2\. So there is a history behind this work of fiction. Seven years ago in 2006 – way before The French Mistake or breaking the third wall I wrote [Stepping into the Real](http://www.fanfiction.net/s/3228769/1/Stepping-into-the-Real). When I saw citrusjava’s prompt I decided I would like to update it a little and include some J2 and a hint of Wincest. I wanted to make it more humorous but it ended up being a lot more angsty!

[ ](http://j2-crack.livejournal.com/14789.html)

Jared put down the script with a sigh.

“I don’t get it,” he said, his fingers playing over the type. “It’s so out of fucking character.”

Jensen looked across at him with some sympathy. He had his own script and was going through it in his usual methodical fashion, his mouth moving as he read the words to himself.

“What can you do, man?” He asked. “You have to read what’s on the paper.”

“I guess but I’m having problems with it. I just can’t understand where Sam is at at the moment. I can’t get into his mind at all. I mean, why would he just go off with this Amelia person? Why wouldn’t he even attempt to search for Dean?” Jared’s chest felt stupidly tight. “It doesn’t make a lick of sense.”

“Hey.” Jensen put his hand on Jared’s chest, a gesture of comfort he had used so many times before. “Chill man, you’ll pull somethin’.”

“Get bent, Ackles.” Jared felt his anger melt at Jensen’s touch. “I just want to do my best ya' know. Sam is misunderstood, isn’t he? I mean I know that some of the fans fucking hate him.”

“Yeah well . . . .” Jensen shrugged. “That’s just those lunatic Destial fans who think Dean and Cas are fucking each other.” He winked. “Me? I prefer those fans who think Wincest rocks.” His hand on Jared’s chest pressed a little harder, fingers wriggling. “I could get on board with that.”

“Not while we’re working.” Jared tried for stern but _little Jared_ was already taking more interest than it should. “I’m trying to get into character here.”

“So you don’t think that Sam is a little hot for Dean then?” Jensen was teasing now, his hand moving a little lower, his fingers starting to creep down Jared’s happy trail.

“Come on man.” Jared’s face was hot and his body was moving so he was closer to Jensen. “Not here – someone might catch us and we can’t _come out_ until the whole thing ends, remember?”

“Yeah I know.” Jensen reluctantly moved his hand away and settled for squeezing Jared’s shoulder instead. “But tonight is okay? After we’ve finished shooting and you’ve gotten rid of all that angst.”

“I guess.” Jared still felt downcast, confused, hating what the writers were doing to him and his character. “I just wish I could change places with Sam for a while, get into his head space, know just why he is doing what he is doing.”

“That’d be cool, right?” Jensen grinned. “You’d get to hang with Dean, sit shotgun in the Impala, fight real demons rather than tennis balls on sticks.”

“Yeah, and I bet Dean doesn’t worry about the best lip gloss to wear or whether his pretty hair is spiky enough!” Jared couldn’t hold back a snort of laughter. “He likes a nice slab of meat as well,” he said with a giggle. “Not fussy about fresh vegetables or some girly rice dish.”

“Fuck you, Padalecki! You love my rice dish.”

“I love more than that,” Jared swallowed and knew he must look really sappy with that fond look on his face.

“I know.” Jensen’s own expression was fairly transparent. “Look, go take five man. You look beat.”

Jared nodded; he turned back to his script and rolled it up, thrusting it into his pocket and wishing he could just forget about it.

He really did wish he could be Sam for a while; the man needed straightening out and maybe Jared was the guy to do it.

As he moved away from the set a shadowy figure was watching curiously. He narrowed his eyes, brushed an imaginary hair of his suit and smirked.

“Well, well,” he mused. “Who knew, seems like I might have a way of getting moose out of the picture all together.” He patted the air by his side. “He won’t be much use to squirrel if he isn’t – let’s say - _in his right mind_.”

And with that, the man waved a languid hand and laughed out loud at his audacity.

****

Jared woke with a start. He had _taken five_ like Jensen had suggested and hadn’t thought he would sleep but – hell – he glanced at his watch and realized he had been out of it for at least an hour. He groaned, he had fallen asleep on the bed in his trailer which was, usually, soft and comfortable, long enough for his height and wide enough for his bulk but now he appeared to be lying on a hard mattress which was narrow, cold and smelt, faintly, of mold.

He opened his eyes, rubbing them, and sat up carefully, his heart pounding hard in his chest as he tried to decide just where he was. 

The room was large and dark, the only light being the dim glow of a bedside lamp which threw wavering orange beams over his bed and pillow. The décor was garish and shabby, the carpet stained, the drapes filthy and tattered. In the corner was an old fashioned TV set with a two pronged aerial and no remote. The damp smell was rank in his nostrils and he swung his legs over the edge of the bed, his booted feet hitting the carpet with a thump.

He hadn’t been wearing boots when he had dozed off.

Gingerly, he looked down at his jeans and saw that they were tattered and worn, a hole in the knee. He was wearing scruffy desert boots and he wriggled his toes to bring the feeling back into his feet, his legs trembling as he got up and moved over to the window, wrinkling his nose at the state of the drapes as he drew them back.

Outside, on the grey tarmac, was a black Chevrolet Impala. The fading evening sunshine reflected on its pristine metal and Jared’s mouth went dry. 

Something inside of him told him that this was not a prank. Everything was too real, too authentic. However, his head told him that this couldn’t be happening, he couldn’t be here – wherever here was. He must be dreaming, dreaming a really real dream.

Swallowing down bile he pushed open the bathroom door and made his way over to the mirror. He gripped the porcelain of the sink and bent forward, taking a deep breath as he opened his eyes and stared into the mirror. His stomach rolled and for a moment he thought he was going to lose his lunch but instead he breathed in deeply through his nose and stared at the face staring back at him.

It was his face but not, a weird doppelgänger, someone pretending to be him. 

The same but oh so different. 

His hair was longer, scruffy and unkempt, hanging greasily around his shoulders. Deep shadows reflected beneath his sunken eyes, whilst his cheeks were thin and hollowed. There were no laughter lines on his face, dimples gone, his mouth turned down beneath a two or three day’s growth of beard. He put his hands to his own face, noting the dirt and grime beneath his, usually, pristine, nails. There were scars on his wrist and another deep scar on his forehead. He felt faint for a moment, closing his eyes and opening them again, praying that he would wake up and everything would be normal.

****

Jared was fast asleep when Jensen crept into his trailer. He moved across to the bed and balanced on the edge running his hands through the soft silky hair that he was so familiar with. Smiling fondly he bent down and pressed a kiss to Jared’s mouth, licking tenderly at his lips, feeling Jared move beneath him, his eyes fluttering open, fuzzy hazel gazing at him.

It was at that moment that Jared leapt to his feet, staggering a little as he hauled back a fist and smacked Jensen on the jaw, the words growled out deep and panicked.

“Dean! What the fuck . . . ?”

**** 

Jared was still staring in the mirror when he heard someone move behind him and he whirled around, his mouth going dry as he saw the grinning face of the demon he knew to be Crowley.

He looked like Mark but his eyes were pure evil, his face slightly thinner than the actors, his teeth a little sharper. Jared opened his mouth but Crowley just smirked at him.

“We both know you aren’t the moose that I know and – well let’s say – love, in a sick sort of way.” He put his hand on Jared’s cheek and pinched it hard. “Who knew,” he mused as Jared stared at him unable to speak even if he wanted to. “All that time you were playing games, doing silly little skits, _breaking the fourth wall_ just for a jaunt. Who knew that Sam and Dean Winchester actually existed and you – you wanted to be Sam.”

Jared shook his head, pathetic denial. His heart was thundering and he felt sick. This wasn’t happening; it was a dream, a nightmare, a hallucination.

“Don’t deny it.” Crowley moved nearer still and Jared smelt rotten eggs, his stomach turning as he realized it was sulfur. “I heard you, you said you wanted to _change places with Sam for a while, get into his head space, know just why he is doing what he is doing_ and here I am, your good fairy, making your wish come true.” He laughed then and stepped back, brushing another imaginary stain from his lapel. “And my wish has been granted too. With the _real moose_ out of the picture poor little squirrel will be too confused to do anything. These two mop-headed lumberjacks are already on bad terms so good luck with convincing your _brother_ that you are his little Sammy.”

With that the demon vanished as quickly as he arrived and Jared leaned his head against the mirror suddenly coming to terms with the fact he was royally fucked.

****

Jensen rubbed at his jaw and stared across the room at his friend. Jared appeared to be panting heavily, his eyes confused. He was staring at Jensen as if he didn’t know him, shaking his head and muttering.

“What are you? You sure as hell aren’t my brother.”

“Hey,” Jensen swallowed, his fingers closing around the cell in his pocket. There was clearly something wrong with Jared and he needed to stay calm just in case he needed to call for help. “Come on man,” he kept his voice light. “It’s usually me that suffers from character bleed.”

“What the hell?” Jared’s voice sounded different, odd, his accent gone in an instant. “What are you talking about? Dean what happened to you?”

“Jared . . . .”

“And who the fuck is Jared?” His friend rubbed at his own face, his eyes looking dark against his pale skin.

“You . . . .” Jensen couldn’t understand. “You’re Jared, man. I think you need to calm down, we need to get you to a doctor.”

“Dean – look man – I know we didn’t exactly part on the best of terms.” Jared’s eyes were panicked now. “But what happened to you? Is this some sort of joke? Cause I don’t think it’s funny, not after what you did to Amelia.”

Jensen froze; Jared was talking about the last episode they shot – Citizen Fang – where Dean used Amelia as _bait_ to get Sam away from Benny. He shook his head, confused, wondering what the hell had happened between Jared coming back here to take five and now.

“Jared you need to let it go, remember. Come on – enough Sam and Dean for today.”

“I’m not Jared!” There was anger and fear in those expressive eyes. “Why do you keep calling me that? Why did you kiss me?”

“If you’re not Jared . . . ,” Jensen knew that the next few words would tell him whether his friend needed a doctor or a psychiatrist. “Who the hell are you?”

“Don’t you know me Dean?” There was real pain in his friend’s expression now. Pain and confusion. “I’m your brother. I’m your brother, Sam.”

****

Jared staggered from the bathroom and sat on the lumpy motel bed staring blankly at the TV. There was a duffle propped in one corner (Sam’s he assumed) and the second bed was covered in clothing and weapons, a really sharp looking (and obviously real) knife, a white handled pistol and a shotgun. He felt terror shiver through him, a tingle down his spine and he shuddered, closing his eyes for a moment as he weighed his options.

There was a harsh rap on the door and Jared almost jumped a foot into the air. His mind supplied a million different scenarios, a hundred different people who might be on the other side. He wasn’t a hunter, he didn’t even know how to handle a gun and his only real knowledge of weapons was the _training_ he’d had while playing Sam. He bit his lip and picked up the knife. He could at least jab it at someone and it looked lethal enough to do real damage.

The rap came again, harder and more insistent. He balked a little, his hand on the handle was shaking and his teeth rattled in his skull.

“Fuck Sam,” a voice he barely recognized shouted through the wood. “Let me in, dammit.”

It was Jensen’s voice and, like a lot of things here, it wasn’t. It was deep and exacting, lower than Jensen’s was even when he was playing Dean. There was a threatening tone to it and Jared swallowed hard, knowing that if he put a foot wrong now he was going to end up dead.

“Sam!” It appeared that Dean – because Jared was convinced that's who it was – was kicking the door now and Jared knew he had to open it. Taking a deep breath and praying he could put on the performance of his life he turned the handle and threw open the door.

****

There was a doctor on set for emergencies but Jensen was pretty sure that this problem went far beyond a simple broken leg or sprained wrist. He kept his eyes on Jared who was standing staring at him, teeth bared like a cornered dog. He noted that his friend’s hands kept going to his belt and he shuddered as he realized that Jared was searching for a weapon.

“Jay you need to calm down.” Jensen kept his eyes on Jared not wanting to spook him anymore than he already was.

“I told you my name is Sam!” Jared’s eyes flashed fire and Jensen bit his lip wondering if he should call for help. There were security guards close by and plenty of muscle available with people like Clif, always hanging around the set, but Jensen didn’t want to go there. He figured he might be able to talk Jared down from the episode he appeared to be having, maybe he might be able to calm him and deal with it all later.

“Okay, _Sam_.” Jensen hoped humoring him would work. “Let’s just sit down for a minute, okay? I’m not a shape shifter or a monster. I know that you know about those sorts of things – I’m your friend, okay?” He swallowed. “Please,” he tried, his voice soft. “You have to trust me.”

Those beautiful slanting eyes went blank for a moment and then Jared flopped onto his bed like a puppet whose strings had been cut. His shoulders slumped and his head went forward and Jensen couldn’t help himself, sitting down by his friend and putting his arms around those broad shoulders. Jared’s body tensed for a moment and then it relaxed again, slumping against Jensen almost against his will.

“Jeez,” his voice was low. “This is just like the fucking time Balthazar sent us to an alternative universe and we got to play at being douche bag actors,” he paused and then took a deep intake of breath,. “What did you say your name was?”

Jensen would have answered him but his mouth had gone dry. He was beginning to wonder if he was as cracked as Jared because he was starting to think that there was a chance that the man beside him might actually be Sam.

“Jensen,” he ground out. “I'm Jensen.”

“Ackles!” The man with Jared’s face snapped his fingers and there was a quick quirk of his lips and a hint of dimples. “That was the name of the actor who _played_ Dean and you called me, Jared. Jared was the rich bastard who lived in some massive mansion with fake Ruby.” He rubbed a hand through his hair. “Shit.”

“Sam?” Jensen didn’t know why he was suddenly so sure. His heart thumped hard in his chest and his throat was as dry as dust. “But that doesn’t make any sense.”

“No.” The man beside him shuddered and, when he lifted his head, his eyes were haunted. “But somehow, I’m here and . . . .” He looked down at himself suddenly, at the clothes he was wearing, Jared’s clothes. “Fuck,” he muttered. “Do you have a mirror?”

Jensen got up and heaved over the full length mirror they kept for costume fittings. He didn’t quite know why Jared (Sam?) wanted to see himself but he knew there must be a reason.

The man on the bed stood up and stared at the mirror for a long, long time. He ran his hands through his hair, showed his teeth, opened his shirt and stared at his chest, his hands running across his body as if it was unfamiliar to him.

“Fuck,” he said again, finally.

“What’s wrong?” Jensen wondered if he wanted to know.

“It’s not like before. Before I was still me. I was still me,” he swallowed. “This body, - he looks like me but after years of hunting . . . there are no scars, no marks. It doesn’t hurt like it should.” There was genuine confusion in _Sam’s_ expression and, at that moment, Jensen believed every single word.

“What are we going to do,” he whispered, fearful and stupid.

“I don’t know.”

****

Jared’s first thought is _Dean Winchester looks mean_.

He is broader than Jensen and his eyes, usually a soft moss green, are hard, sharp jade. He has a bruise on his cheek and a scar that runs from his cheek to his mouth. Jared tries not to stare, knows what Jensen’s mouth feels like, what it tastes like, knows that Dean wouldn’t taste the same, sees a cruel slant to his lips. He looks tired, shadows beneath his eyes, stubble rough on his jaw. The only familiar things about him are those stupid freckles that adorn his nose, cheek and jaw.

“You took your fucking time,” Dean sounded angry and Jared got it, he really did. “Look Sammy, I know you’re pissed at me.”

Jared raised his hand and took a breath. He had to think of something fast and he was, frankly, terrified.

If this _reality_ was following the show’s timeline then Sam had just left Dean, Dean had used Amelia for bait and was trying to defend Benny. Jared hadn’t read much of the new script but the brother’s seemed to be estranged and reconciliation appeared unlikely. Jared had wished he was in Sam’s head-space but now he was here he had no fucking idea what to do or say. He had had years of playing Sam but who knew what was right or what was wrong. What was real and what wasn’t. 

“I’m sorry,” he heard himself saying, the first words he had spoken, his voice soft and unfamiliar even to him. “I . . . .”

“I had to do it.” Dean was looking at him with an odd expression in his eyes. “You were gunning for Benny.”

Jared swallowed; he had met Crowley and Dean and neither of them were much like their _fictional_ counterparts. He didn’t want to imagine what Benny in this reality might be like, remembering Ty’s old fashioned charm, his jovial manner, the way he drank like a fish and liked a good time. He had a feeling that this Benny wouldn’t be quite as amiable as Ty was.

“I know, but he’s a monster.” Jared’s throat was as dry as dust. This wasn’t Jensen; this was a man on the edge and if he for a moment suspected anything was amiss then Jared was most definitely toast. “You used to be the one eager to gank any monster that got in our way.”

“I owe Benny.” Dean narrowed his eyes and stared at Jared. “So fuck you.”

Jared stared at Dean’s mouth for a moment and then shook his head.

“I said I was sorry,” he said, finally, not wanting to get into anything deep. He didn’t know how long he would be trapped here and he had no idea how to get back. He wasn’t in _The French Mistake_ now, he wasn’t even himself. 

He had suspected, from the moment he had looked in the mirror, that this was a body swap. His limbs ached and his knee throbbed, his head hurt and there was a mass of scar tissue on his thigh, his hip and his lower back. He pushed his hair back from his forehead and wondered if this _timeline_ matched his own. He was almost afraid to speak in case he said something wrong, gave himself away. He knew how lethal the fictional Dean was and he had no reason to believe that _this Dean_ would be any different.

“Yeah,” Dean virtually snarled. “You say that a lot.”

“Look Dean.” Jared wanted to run, to flee. “If you’ve just come here to fucking wail at me then you can just drive on back to where you came from.”

“Yeah.” Dean’s mouth quirked up slightly. “Guess we both owe each other an apology, right? I’m sorry I used your girlfriend as bait, I shouldn’t have done that.”

“No.” Jared felt a stab of relief that the timeline seemed to fit. “It was a pretty shit thing to do.”

“Sorta' like leavin' your brother in Purgatory for a year or ignoring a teenage boy who needed your help.” Dean almost sneered and Jared flinched. It was the wrong thing to do because Dean’s eyes narrowed and his fingers came up to trace the bruise on his cheek. “Why so jumpy, Sammy? You don’t want to punch me again? Make it count.”

Jared drew a sharp breath and stared down at his knuckles. They were red and sore and he realized that Sam and Dean must have fought over this, hurt each other both physically and mentally. He couldn’t wrap his head around it, didn’t understand. Jensen and Jared always played up the brotherly bond, it was one of the reasons they had grown so close, first as friends and then, more recently, as lovers. Here – wherever the fuck here was – it seemed to be different; all he could feel emanating from Dean was rage.

“How long are you gonna keep making me suffer for that?” Jared could barely form the words, his fear making him irrational. “I just wanted to be normal, to have something.”

There was a deathly silence for a moment and then, to his amazement, Jared saw those angry green eyes soften, saw Dean’s shoulders relax, his posture change.

“Yeah, okay Sam,” he said, finally. “I don’t wanna do this without you. I never did get on so well on my own.”

“You - you have Benny.”

“That’s true and he’s a good friend, might even make a good hunter if we trained him right but despite what I said when I was under the influence of that fucking coin he isn’t you.”

Jared wanted to cry; his throat hurt and he could see, by the look in his eyes that Dean thought he might have said too much, given away too much. For a moment he looked so like Jensen that Jared wanted to hug him but instead he just put out a hand and squeezed Dean’s arm.

Dean looked at him for the longest of moments and then he let his eyes wander around the motel room, smile lighting up his face.

“See you have two beds, Sam,” he ground out as if the words were forced from him. “Mind if I bunk down.”

Jared found himself smiling back then, relief making him weak.

“Go ahead,” he mumbled and hoped that he could keep this up.

****

Jensen guessed Sam Winchester was pretty used to weird. He didn’t seem fazed by an alternative reality nor did he seem freaked out about the body swap which was just as well because Jensen was freakin' terrified both for him and for Jared (wherever he was).

“I need to do some research.” Sam was pacing up and down the trailer. “I need a laptop and wireless access.”

“We can go back to our house if you want,” Jensen said. “There’s plenty of space there. You can shower, have something to eat, - you can’t research on an empty stomach.”

Sam frowned. “I guess you’re right.” He cracked his shoulders and shook his head, smiling wryly. “It’s nice,” he mused. “Not to ache all over.”

“That bad, huh?” Jensen guessed it was a stupid question considering what the Winchesters did. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be.” Sam shrugged and Jensen felt a tug in his gut seeing such a devastated expression on his friend’s face. “It’s my life, you know.”

They took a cab back to the house; Sadie and Oscar came bounding out to meet them and Sam instantly dropped to his knees, burying his head into their soft fur and scratching a delighted Sadie behind her ears.

“I always wanted a dog,” he mused, sadly. “Are these your friend’s?”

“Sadie belongs to Jared, Oscar is mine.” Jensen opened the front door and let Sam inside. It was cool in the darkness of the hall and the dogs claws skittered across the tiles.

“This isn’t what I expected,” Sam said. “I mean it isn’t like before.”

“Neither of us live in huge mansions.” Jensen knew what Sam meant. “We live here together, try to stay as normal as possible.”

“I’m not married to fake Ruby then?”

“Only in name,” Jensen swallowed, his cheeks heating up a little.

Sam was staring at him hard, speckled hazel eyes confused for a moment and then full of realization when he finally got it.

“That’s why you kissed me,” he said. “To wake me up.”

“Yeah, Jared and me, we’ve been in a relationship for years. We- no one knows – not really.”

Sam didn’t say anything for the longest of time; he sat down on one of the soft bean bags that Jared kept in the den, the dogs cuddling up to him. Jensen wondered if he were being judged and he licked his lips, wondering, not for the first time, if this was just some wild dream.

“I’m not judging you.” There was a wistful expression in Sam’s eyes and Jensen’s throat tightened with unexplained emotion. “Must be really great to find someone to love like that.”

“Yeah, Jared’s a great guy,” Jensen could barely get the words out. “I’m kinda worried about him.”

“What I don’t understand is why we have switched bodies.” It was obvious Sam was trying to change the subject. “I – before it was just realities – I had no idea you guys existed until then.”

Jensen frowned; his head was hurting with all the possibilities.

“But you – but the guys you met were douches right? They didn’t talk to each other and they lived in massive houses and kept aquariums in their trailers.”

“Yeah.”

“And there were llamas and Misha was an ass.”

“That’s right, shit how do you know all of that?”

“Because we filmed an episode just like that – on our show.” Jensen was trying to make sense of it all. “And someone knew about it, maybe even made it happen.”

“There are demons, angels, monsters, hell even fucking fairies.” Sam shook his head angrily. “Why shouldn’t there be a million different realities, other Sam’s, other Dean’s, all existing in their own tiny universes.” he looked at Jensen, head to one side, as if he were considering something. “Dean got lost in the wish universe that the Djinn created. He got sent forward and back in time. I met my own mom, my dad before he became so hardened, so desperate. Is it so hard to believe that your friend has been sent to a universe where your characters actually exist?”

“I guess not.” Jensen had to sit down, he felt lost, scared and terrified he would never, ever see Jared again.

“But why?” Sam sounded fraught. “Why is this happening? Who would do this?”

“I-I think that . . . um . . . .” Jensen knew then, he knew Jared hated what was happening to his character, had heard him wish he was in Sam’s mind. “He wanted to get inside your head. He – he didn’t think the writers had gotten it right, and he wanted to understand why you would leave Dean in purgatory just so you could have a normal life.”

“Oh God.” Sam slumped over, landing next to Jensen on the couch, the dogs fussing around him. “This is all my fault, all of it.”

“No.” Jensen turned his head so that he could look at Sam. They were so close, close enough for Jensen to see the pain in those slanting exotic eyes, close enough for him to smell Jared’s cologne, to smell Jared, so familiar with the body next to him even if the person inside wasn’t the same. “It isn’t your fault, but I’d like to know why you did it. I’d like to know why you turned your back on your brother.”

Sam stared at him for a long moment and then Sam gave a huge sigh, bent his head forward and began to sob fitfully.

****

Jared opted for staying silent and hoped that Dean thought Sam wasn’t talking because he felt unhappy about the situation. He had wished to be in Sam’s head-space, he hadn’t wished to be Sam and he just didn’t understand what had happened. Where the hell was he? What sort of universe was this? His stomach was fluttering and his head hurt, he wasn’t able to deal with this, all he could do was _play his part_ and hope to God that this was a terrible nightmare.

Dean’s hands were tight on the wheel and Jared couldn’t stop staring at them. The knuckles were white, his wrists tense, bicep’s bulging. His eyes were fixed on the road, his mouth pursed. This was not the man that Jared fell in love with and he had to keep telling himself that. There would be no one saying _cut_ at the end of the scene, they wouldn’t get out of the Impala and go off to their trailers. There would be no hugging or kissing, no tenderness. Jared’s heart ached and he couldn’t keep the tears of angst and frustration from trickling down his cheeks, swiping at them angrily before _his brother_ could see.

“Sammy?”

Too late, he turned and found himself face to face with Dean, eyes assessing. The older man looked confused and he slowed down almost instantly pulling into the first available parking slot and turning off the engine.

“Sam?”

Jared couldn’t stop himself now, tears were pouring down his cheeks and he was hurt and afraid. Honesty now would probably lead to Jared being killed. He knew all about shape shifters and demons and he wasn’t naïve enough to think that Dean would just laugh about all of this and let him go free.

“Sammy?” A calloused hand on his shoulder, a familiar gesture of comfort, but not Jensen. Jensen was . . . . he didn’t even know where Jensen was and he was here and they might never see each other again.

“I’m not Sam,” the words were out before he could stop them, pouring from his mouth like the tears from his eyes. “I might look like him and sound like him but I’m not him. I’m an actor called, Jared Padalecki and I just play Sam on TV and none of this, none of this makes any sense.”

“Padalecki?” To Jared’s surprise and relief Dean hadn’t yet gotten out a gun or knife. “You were that douche-bag actor who owns a llama and a mansion in Vancouver!” He wrinkled his nose. “What’s this all about?” He demanded, fingers tight on Jared’s arm, a tight ball of tension. “Balthazar’s long dead and the Trickster too.”

“It was Crowley,” Jared was aware that he was babbling, his voice tinged with both relief and tension. “He heard me say, I wish I was inside Sam’s head so he did this - whatever the hell, this is.”

“Crowley? That sick son of a bitch.” Dean leaned back and let Jared’s arm go, narrowed eyes observing him closely. “And don’t think I trust anything you say, you had a fucking llama and you’re married to that fake Ruby bitch.”

“That’s not how it is.” Jared hung his head. “I don’t know how this has happened or what the demon has done but I’m not that person. I live in a fairly small apartment, I don’t have a llama just dogs. I’m not that vain.” He forced a tiny smile. “I don’t have a tanning machine either.”

“But you play Sam – on this show of yours – you do all that blue steel stuff.” He shook his head. “If I hadn’t seen it all I wouldn’t actually believe it.”

“I’m sorry,” there was nothing else to say. “I’m not your brother, but I’m pretty sure I’m in his body and that means he’s in mine.”

“You’re different?”

“Yeah, this body hurts so much.” Jared flexed his fingers. “There are so many scars but that shouldn’t be a surprise not really considering what you do.”

“So you know a lot about us?” Dean sounded fascinated now, eyes wide. “What we do, what’s happened to us?”

“I-I know some things,” Jared hesitated. “But I don’t know how much of it is true,” he swallowed. “Or even if this is true. I might be in the middle of a psychotic episode right now or-or Crowley has made you up, but then if he had made you up he wouldn’t exist either and I really would be going bananas.”

“Slow down there.” Dean’s expression softened for the first time and his expression was almost fond. “You always talk a mile a minute?”

“When I’m nervous, yeah.” Jared managed a smile back. “Sorry.”

“Nah, I’m the one who’s sorry. Get inside Sam’s mind – fuck me – that’s a joke.”

“He’s pretty deep, huh?”

“Deeper than a bottomless pit.” Dean laughed again. “I can’t live with him but I can’t live without him.” He narrowed his eyes. “Sam’s all I have, all I ever will have and maybe – sometimes – our relationship goes beyond the brotherly.” He leaned closer. “You get that?”

Some of the tension in Jared’s neck released.

“Yeah,” he said, softly, gently. “I get it.”

“I – we – it’s complicated but you wanna know why he never searched for me, you wanna know why he went back and looked for normal?”

“I’m trying to understand that, yeah." Jared felt his throat go tight. “That’s what I wanted, to get inside his head.”

“I was gone – he thought I was dead. We don’t do alone very well. Last time he turned to that demon bitch but this time there was no one. He looked at it as his chance to escape. Not just hunting but the unnatural feelings we had – have – for each other. We have been totally co-dependent since dad put him in my arms, you know.”

“I know.”

“Yeah, course you do.” Dean smiled, wryly. “Whatever you think you know – fuck man – it’s a whole lot worse.”

“Nothing is like I thought it would be. It’s all so dark.”

“Maybe _this_ doesn’t exist at all.” Dean was smirking now, his eyes narrow, a hard, cold version of Jensen again, something out of a nightmare rather than a dream.

“Yeah, I keep hoping I’ll wake up.” Jared shook his head. “But I’m still here and I just want to go home.”

“Maybe you can.” Dean was close enough now that Jared could smell whiskey, old spice and the thick rich scent of leather. “When you get what you came for. Let me finish telling you about Sam, about how he just left me in purgatory, spent a year in denial before crawling back.”

“He didn’t look for you because he was afraid,” Jared whispered, fear making his skin crawl. “He didn’t look for you because he needed you so much and he realized that this was the one chance to break away from that awful need, he thought you might be dead and maybe he could deal with that. There was no clue as to where you had gone and no one to help him look, no one to really care,” Jared knew now, he understood and he wished he didn’t because it hurt. It hurt almost too much.

“He thought he could break free of it all,” Dean added. “He was a mess, a total mess and he just broke down, just shut everything out,” he lowered his voice. “I think if he hadn’t have hit that damn dog he would have hit a brick fucking wall.”

“I’m sorry,” Jared didn’t know what else to say, anything else would be platitudes.

Dean stared at him for a long, long time then he moved, lightning fast, grabbed Jared hard by the back of his neck and pulled him in. Before Jared could react Dean was kissing him brutally and with intent. Jared felt his body _Sam’s body_ react and he went with it, letting Dean kiss him and kiss him until he broke away.

“Let me have this,” Dean panted out. “This might be the only chance I get so please let me have this.”

“I’m not Sam,” Jared knew, deep down, what his answer was going to be but he held on for a moment, knowing that he was about to lose what was left of his sanity.

“I know,” Dean choked out, his eyes moist now. “I know.”

****

If he forgets or puts it down to some sort of mental breakdown Jensen can believe its Jared who lay sleeping in his lap. Head pillowed on his thighs, long hair spread out like silk across the blue denim of his jeans. His high cheekbones were smeared with red from his crying fit earlier and his mouth moved unconsciously as if he was talking. Jensen didn’t really want to know what brought that on, didn’t want to think about holding the taller man as he wept and wept, anguish and pain racking his body. This wasn’t acting, this was real.

Jensen knew what he heard and he felt such pity for the man before him that it made him ache. Sam didn’t look for his brother because he loved him too much, in all the wrong ways. He didn’t look for Dean because they had become too co-dependent and if Sam couldn’t find him then it was best to let it be. Jensen couldn’t help it, he carded his hands through _Sam’s_ hair offering comfort, offering the only thing he could.

God he wished that this wasn’t real, he wished he could wake up in his bed with Jared beside him, wished that they could laugh about it, have slow, loving sex and then go back to work. As it was the crew probably thought Jared had lost it and were sending for a counselor right the hell now and Jensen didn’t know what to do. He wondered if he would ever see his friend again, if this body would ever contain the ball of energy that was Jared Padalecki. Jensen could feel his throat close, tears stinging.

“I want him back,” he whispered, to whoever might be listening. “Please, God – Chuck – Metatron – if you are up there, any of you, I want him back.”

****

Dean isn’t gentle; he is fierce, biting, holding on so tight. They kiss hard, teeth buried in each other’s lips, hands clutching, tongues wrestling. Jared is naked and on his back before he can even think about what he is doing. Technically he is being unfaithful to Jensen but he is sure Jensen won’t mind, that Jensen will understand.

Dean is inside of him; hot and hard, his hand around Jared’s cock moving up and down, bringing Jared to completion over and over. Afterwards they are both exhausted, wrapped naked around each other.

“I want you to promise me something,” Jared buried his head in Dean’s neck, smells that now familiar scent of him. “Please.”

“What?” Dean’s eyes are softer than Jared could imagine them ever being. He looks happier than he did when Jared first saw him and, strangely, he looks more like Jensen.

“Whatever happens, I want you to be happy.” Jared ran his fingers through Dean’s hair. “If you finally find a home I want you to settle there with Sam. Take Kevin, hell even take Garth if you want, but you bury yourself inside that home wherever it is, don’t come out, just stay there and smash that damn tablet before Kevin can translate it. You and Sam have paid your dues. Please Dean, your brother loves you – you clearly love him. Maybe you do have a chance.”

Dean smiled then, disbelief clear on his face. “Jared . . . ,” he began but Jared lifted his finger and pressed it over Dean’s mouth.

“Promise,” Jared insisted and Dean nodded wordlessly.

Maybe, Jared mused, it was all going to be alright.

****

From the dark reaches of his Hell Crowley snarled dissatisfied. This wasn’t what he wanted, he wanted revenge to be painful. He wanted the Winchesters to suffer before they stepped down He certainly didn’t want them ensconced in domestic bliss and he CERTAINLY didn’t want them smashing that damn tablet before he could get his hands on it.

Gritting his teeth he waved his hand with more urgency this time; how – he mused – did the Winchester’s manage to fuck up his plans every single time. He was going to have to try harder next time, dream up a far better torture for them. He sighed as he turned his back on the scene before him. At least he would have the satisfaction of seeing Sam’s face when he opened his eyes and found he was naked in bed with his own brother. With any luck a bit of incest might actually tear them apart for good.

**** 

As soon as Jared opened his eyes Jensen knew.

Speckled hazel eyes stared at him dazed and confused and then Jared broke into a huge grin, dimples and everything, pulling Jensen down into a huge bear hug, burying his nose into Jensen’s hair and holding him impossibly closer.

“Did that really happen?” He asked, finally. “Was I really _there_?”

“Yeah and – shit this sounds so wrong on so many different levels – Sam was here.” Jensen couldn’t let go of Jared for a moment. “I thought - I never thought I would see you again.”

“It was a nightmare,” Jared choked out. “It was so miserable there, so dark. I don’t know how they do it, Jensen. I don’t know how they survive.”

“He sorta' told me why he didn’t look for his brother,” Jensen ventured but the look on Jared’s face struck him silent. “You know, don’t you?” he whispered.

“I . . . we . . . .” Jared looked pale, his eyes dark with guilt. “I was in Sam’s body, I gave him what he wanted. I know how it looks.”

Jensen was silent for a while then he tangled his fingers in Jared’s hair again.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said, finally. “You gave him what he wanted and you made him happy.”

“I told him to try and have a better life, to quit hunting and to live somewhere nice with Sam,” Jared continued. “Do you think that’s possible? Do you think they can ever do that?”

“I hope so,” Jensen sighed. “Knowing they’re real – it’s kinda weird, you know.”

“It’s all kinda weird. I saw Crowley and, man, he was creepy. Dean was this hardened version of you and Sam – being Sam was so fucking painful.”

“Do you think you can do it now?” Jensen asked, holding Jared extra tight, afraid he would suddenly vanish again. “Play Sam?”

“Yeah, I guess so – at least I understand him more now. Understand Dean too. They need each other, they love each other too much and what they do for each other, the sacrifices they make.” He laughed wryly. “Makes us look kinda pathetic, doesn’t it? Too scared to even come out.”

Jensen shook his head; it was going to take a long time to get over this, take a long, long time to get his head around what happened, Even now he wasn’t sure it happened at all.

Jared got to his feet and pulled Jensen upright.

“I wanna go to bed,” he said, softly. ”I want to take you upstairs and I want you to love me. I need you so much right now.”

“Do you think they’ll be okay?” Jensen stared off into the night, the darkness that surrounded them, a darkness that they could escape but Sam and Dean could not.

“Yeah.” Jared smiled then and pulled Jensen in harder. “I think they’ll be alright and maybe, one day, we’ll see them again and find out for ourselves.”

Jensen let Jared lead him upstairs and into their bedroom. The door closed behind them and he felt safe at last, safe from monsters and demons, creatures he now knew existed, out there somewhere.

“They’ll be okay,” Jared said again. “And so will we.”

“I know,” said Jensen and he hoped that it wasn’t a lie.

End


End file.
